


Terminal Velocity

by Saint_Rick_The_Dick



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 11:56:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13612878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saint_Rick_The_Dick/pseuds/Saint_Rick_The_Dick
Summary: Wherein Rick is your Math Professor who catches you sleeping in the library.





	Terminal Velocity

You’d never actually  _seen_ Professor Sanchez in the library, but of course the one time you doze off while studying, your face firmly planted in the open spine of a copy of Contemporary Abstract Algebra (7th Edition), is the exact day he decided to pay a visit. **  
**

“Hey! Hey uh - Sleeping Beauty!”

His words jolted you awake, that gravelly baritone you’d come to appreciate with equal parts longing and loathing. Attending lecture was always beautiful torment. The man was undeniably brilliant -  you could listen to him speak for hours - but you’d spent many afternoons in his class drowning in that deep voice, imagining what he would say if he fucked you from behind, or while you were on your knees with his cock in your mouth. Would he tell you how well you sucked his dick? Call you pretty while he fingered your cunt? Or was he even the talkative type. Did he merely grunt and moan like the drunk frat boys you bedded on weekends?

When he noted his success in pulling you from slumber, Rick’s wide mouth split in a vicious grin. He was close enough that you could smell the whiskey on his breath, the cologne on his skin, and you pulled back, startled, sucking in air through your nose.

“Trying to - learning via osmosis doesn’t work there, princess. Y-y-you’re eyes have to be  _open_  in order for anything to actually stick.”

You groaned and ran your hands over your face, fumbled for your cell phone to check the…  _Shit_. As suspected, you’d missed your bus home. Gathering your things, Rick watched as you shoved books and papers into your bag.

“Sorry, Professor. I slept through the last bus and - “

But he cut you off with a hand on your shoulder. You jumped at the touch, warmth immediately spreading down and pooling between your thighs as those long, elegant fingers squeezed, pressed into your skin. For a moment, you thought maybe he knew the effect he had on you, but his next question made you worry about your judgement. Obviously, the man wasn’t interested in  _you._

“Y-you need a ride home, right? Come on. I’ll - I can take you.”

While you tried to protest, he shook his head, shut you down. You tried  _again_ , but he rolled his eyes, told you to grab your shit because he’d like to leave sometime before the heat death of the universe. Finally, you complied, followed him from the nearly deserted library to his car which was an ancient Buick that smelled exactly like he did; a combination of whiskey, cologne and some other chemical scent which you identified as soap.

He chatted while he drove, one hand on the steering wheel, the other occasionally rifling through his unruly hair. It was impossible not to stare, and soon enough you found yourself shifting around in your seat, that earlier hum of arousal now a persistent throb. Vaguely, you heard him lament the idiocy of a large portion of the university’s student body, complain of fellow faculty, but you were too focused on the sound of his voice, the way the passing street lights lit the lines of his face. You weren’t entirely sure of the Professor’s age -  by your guess he had to be in his 60s or 70s -  but it did nothing to deter your lust. If anything, it made it  _worse._

At one point, he paused in his tirade to pull out a flask. He took a long pull and belched, causing drool to fall out over his lower lip and chin. In part, you were horrified at the spectacle, while the other part wanted to reach across, lick off that sheen of spit and kiss him. Instead, you continued to squirm before his statement caught you off guard.

“Y-y-you know, you can just pull my dick out and suck on it aaaany time now.”

“I -  _what?_ ”

Did he really…? Your cheeks burned as you struggled to come up with an appropriate response, but he just laughed at your embarrassment, took another drink.

“Listen, slut. I-I-I’m not stupid. I see the way you - how you look at me during class. Even now, you’re so fucking wet you can’t sit still. Go on. Show me. Slide a - slip your finger along the lips of that sweet pussy. Lemme - I-I wanna see it.”

Though you were trembling with nerves, he was right,  _of course_  he was right, and you did as instructed. Your hand came away slick, glistening with moisture, and he grabbed your wrist, stuck those fingers in his mouth to suck them clean. You couldn’t help the tiny moan that escaped as his tongue ran, plush and hot, along your skin. Grunting, he released his hold and smirked.

“Mmm you - y-you taste  _good_.”

When he palmed the bulge of his erection, you watched, greedy. He offered you a grin, and then motioned to his crotch.

“Go on, slut. I-i-it won’t suck itself.”

That was the last bit of impetus required, and you shifted over, hands shaking as you undid his belt buckle and fly. Rick bit his lip, pulled up the bottom of his shirt with one hand, exposing his stomach so you could free his cock. It was so much bigger than you were expecting, thick and veiny, the head fat, and for a moment you feared you’d choke, but he didn’t give you the opportunity to reconsider before he was growling, impatient.

“Don’t just - I-I-I realize it’s probably the fattest dick you’ve ever seen, but - ooohh _fff_  - _that’s it, baby_. Just like that.”

Taking him into your mouth, you cut his complaint short. You were right, he barely fit, and his girth forced your jaw to extend, your tongue flat so you could make room. He tangled his free hand in your hair, using it to convey the rhythm he sought, and you picked it up with ease, bobbing your head as you struggled to take in as much of him as you could.

“Nnnnff  _fuck_  yes, good little slut. Goddamn - y-you sure you’re not majoring in the art of the blow job?”

You offered a hum in response and he groaned, bucked, hit the back of your throat. It made your eyes water, and you gagged, but you held your place, drool running freely, making a mess of you both. Rick didn’t seem to care, the hand in your hair a vice as he drove, as you worked his shaft, reveling in the soft texture, the flavor of his skin. Your jaw was aching from the strain of his massive cock, so when you heard him moan, felt him pulse, you increased speed, pushing him towards release.

“Y-y-you better swallow what I give you, slut. Cause I - I’m gonna cum riiight down that pretty little throat and you - don’t you waste it -  _fuck_!”

He thrust up once, hard, pushing down on your head. You felt his coarse pubes tickle your nose, and then he was cursing, snarling as he came, his load salty and warm. You choked, but swallowed, waited until his grip in your hair softened and he allowed you to sit up. With numb lips, you watched as he tucked himself away and retrieved his flask. Your cunt was slick, aching, and you yearned to fuck him or touch yourself, to ease some of that sweet misery. It was as if he read your mind.

“Go on, slut. I-I wanna watch you fuck yourself.”

You didn’t hesitate, undoing your pants, slipping your hand beneath the waistband of your panties. But that wasn’t good enough for Rick, and he sneered.

“Nuh-huh, baby. Pull those aaalll the way down. Spread your legs for me. Y-y-you think I can see anything like that? I said I wanna  _watch_ which means - y-you’re not  _stupid_. I want to see your fingers in your pussy.”

You raised up, removed everything, exposing yourself entirely, leaned back and spread your legs wide. He praised you and you moaned, shameless, when you slid one and then two fingers inside, curled them. You rolled your hips, used your free hand to squeeze one breast which earned you more praise - “ _Fuck_ yes, baby. Keep going.” Eyes squeezed shut, you concentrated, the delicious tension rising and churning. Your perverse pleasure, the humiliation of being watched combined with  _who_  was watching, only served to wind you tighter, bring that horizon closer, and so consumed were you with yourself that you didn’t notice when the car stopped.

It wasn’t until Rick leaned over, grabbed your arm to remove your hand, did you realize you were in the parking lot of your apartment complex. You released a startled “Huh?” at the interruption, but it melted into a lurid moan when he slid two of his long fingers into your cunt, curled them, beckoning. His voice was low in your ear, full of arousal and mischievous glee.

“Y-you like that, slut? Like fucking yourself for - in front of me, getting your pussy all wet and sloppy?”

You whimpered, nodded as he pressed a kiss to your jaw, your neck. He allowed you to grind on his hand, urged you to fall apart. When you issued a breathless “Oh my god, Professor!” he corrected you.

“Call me Rick, baby. Y-you wanna cum? I know you do - I can feel that - feel you squeezing my fingers. Next time I’ll - y-you can take my dick. Stick it riiiiight in that tight little ass of yours. Make you  _scream_. So - go on. Cum for me, slut. Do it. And say my - I-I wanna hear my name.”

Those words were your downfall. You clenched, your thighs closing, involuntary, around his arm, your climax coming up to claim you in a spectacular wave of bliss as you sobbed his name. It was loud and obscene in the small space of the car, but he didn’t care, grinned into your skin as he let you ride out your orgasm. When at last you stilled, he withdrew, ordered you to lick him clean which you did, sucking those deft fingers into your mouth, basking in your own pungent flavor. Once done, you dressed and grabbed your bag, prepared to exit, but Rick stopped you - again - with a hand on your shoulder.

“My office. Friday. After hours. No pants - wear a dress. A skirt. Y-y-you know, something  _easy._ ”

Smiling, you bit your lip, and nodded.

“I’ll be there… Rick.”

“Good girl.”

You could still feel his eyes on you when you got out and walked away.


End file.
